


Sincerely, Not You

by sidereal_fantasies



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College AU, College Student Ateez, College Student Choi San, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Gen, Love Letters, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, San and Reader can be slightly dense at times, Tumblr: sidereal-fantasies, slight slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidereal_fantasies/pseuds/sidereal_fantasies
Summary: —“Unspoken words hold the weight of the world all within each stroke of ink. Yet, what holds together bitter truths and sweet lies is a thin sheet of paper, ready to rip at any given moment. Just like the heart strings of a glass heart.”- A College AU in which Choi San and many others receive letters that threaten to break their already fragile hearts.
Relationships: Choi San/Reader
Kudos: 5





	1. Letter #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****  
>  _—“a farewell to a love that I never missed.”_   
> 

_**Dear [redacted],** _

_**Love can be kind.** _

_**It is warm, like the rays of the sun on the perfect day in the blazing season of summer, shining down while the soft breeze comes by and cools you down. Warm, like the tickles of a lover’s fingertips, ghosting over your skin, leaving imprints so deep that it’s impossible to forget. Warm, like a lover’s kiss that lingers on swollen rose petals, igniting a flame in your already pounding heart.** _

_**Love can be soft.** _

_**It is gentle, like the quiet hum of your favorite song echoing softly in your ear. Gentle, like the whispers of loving words that calm your raging your soul after a long and tiresome day. Gentle, like the last tear that escapes your red, puffy eyes after your heart accepts how harsh reality is.** _

_**Love can be other things, however, [redacted]. For it has many colors. Colors that neither you or I can predict. Colors that we never expect until it pools from broke hearts. Our broken hearts, to be specific.** _

_**Love is cruel.** _

_**Cruel, like the poison that slips into our words, wounding each other over and over again until the inevitable death and destruction of our hearts. Cruel, like the unbearable silence that hangs between us, taunting us and letting us know that this is the end of our story.** _

_**Love is imperfect.** _

_**Imperfect, like the world before us, pieced together, but never quite matching. Imperfect, like the wilting flowers and missed dates we never once glanced at. Imperfect, like the faults we continuously berate each other about, never once forgetting to remind the other how ugly our true colors are.** _

_**Love is something that neither you nor I are capable of giving.** _

_**Or else, we wouldn’t be walking away with empty hearts and dry eyes.** _

_**Sincerely,** _

_**A Former Romantic** _


	2. 01: Valentine’s Woes and Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _  
>  **“For a poet, you truly are oblivious to the emotions that make up a person. That, or you don’t know how to convey your own.”**   
>  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING(S): None (except one curse word)

Hailed as a genius writer, it came as a surprise to many when the great Choi San would reveal that he hadn’t experienced true love. True love, in the thoughts of San, was a state where nothing could mean everything. The tiniest details suddenly multiply and matter so much more, as if a mind filled with unfinished sentences and distractions that focused solely on the target of affection wasn’t enough. Their name would be repeated like a broken record. Their flaws would turn into your favorite things about them. Sharp edges turned into soft corners. Heavy stones would suddenly be light as a feather. In other words, true love to San meant dedicating your entire being to one person and one person only for a rather long time.

Today just so happened to be Valentine’s Day; a holiday meant to emphasize the importance of the everlasting concept of finding and loving someone with all their heart and showering them in sickeningly sweet affection. A day where Choi San viewed like any other day despite his specific fantasies about true love.

Valentine’s Day was also a holiday that San didn’t quite understand.

And his bemusement with the day of love only continued as he watched his dear friend, Jung Wooyoung, politely reject a girl after one of their lecture classes.

San had decided to linger around the corner as he eyed the peculiar scene in front of him. Why should it be today where many people suddenly deem it perfect to confess their interest in somebody and shower them in roses that would only wilt a few days later and chocolates that would be gone within the next hour? 

San pouted slightly as he watched the girl scurry off, face stained with an embarrassing shade of ruby red while his closest friend stood there in a slight daze, clutching the rose with his own frown plastered to his lips. He then approached the wordless man and placed a hand on his shoulder which shook him out of his wandering thoughts.

“Weren’t you just complaining about not having someone to spend Valentine’s Day with last week,” San teased. Wooyoung muttered a curt ‘shut up’ before shoving the rose into San’s chest.

“Don’t you have an entire essay due in the next two days that you have yet to start?” Wooyung countered.

“You mean the essay we both procrastinated on plus the new assignment we got today?”

Wooyoung exhaled softly, holding his hands up in defeat with a little shake of his head. Their conversation came to a momentary pause as Wooyoung glanced back at the direction that girl ran off in, heart squeezing slightly in guilt. San noticed the lingering feelings, but couldn’t help but to cast his own gaze down to the scarlet flower in his hand. The stem itself was trimmed, leaving it shorter than usual and thorn-less as well. The petals, however, were crushed slightly, either from Wooyoung’s brash action or the girl’s lack of focus on the delicate flower. His fingers brushed over them, taking in the odd texture. _Figures_ , he thought. _It’s plastic_. Perhaps he missed some kind of attempt of a semi-poetic confession.

“It happens sometimes, Wooyoung,” San simply said in an effort to comfort the younger man. “It’s just Valentine’s Day, anyways. A lot of people get in a frenzy to hook up with the nearest person.”

Wooyoung’s shoulders slumped forward slightly as his frown increased. “I know, but I still feel guilty. A lot of people expect a lot to happen on Valentine’s Day and I probably just crushed her heart,” he explained. 

San tore his gaze away from Wooyoung. He was right, in a way. He noticed how many people’s hearts swell at the idea of either spending this particular day with their significant other or in the arms of a newfound love. He’s seen it so many times that he wondered if that’s all he ever witnessed on a day he would rather skip over instead. Hearts were delicate things, as he had observed from his friends. Made of tangled webs and thin glass, it was almost too easy to leave a crack or two in them every now and then. He just couldn’t understand why so many were so willing to risk dropping their own hearts on one particular day.

“How about we hang out tonight? We’ll drag some of the others out of their dorms as well and maybe we could go on another adventure to the local convenience store,” San suggested. The corners of Wooyung’s lips turned upwards as he nodded his head vigorously. “Maybe we can get Seonghwa to tag along then and make him pay for all of us again,” Wooyoung joked. A small chuckle rumbled in San’s chest.

“I’d rather not hear him nag at all of us for not being able to agree on a single brand of ramen...“

* * *

Unfortunately, San and Wooyoung were only able to drag Kang Yeosang and Jeong Yunho out of their dorms. The older members of their friend group, Park Seonghwa and Kim Hongjoong, decided that studying was top priority while San’s roommate, Song Mingi, opted for a nap instead of a late night adventure. Choi Jongho, another friend of theirs, was focused on editing a song cover and simply told them to bring back something extremely caffeinated for him, claiming that editing was ‘sucking the very soul of his being out’ with how frustratingly picky he was. Nevertheless, the four of them made it work, effectively getting Wooyoung’s mind off of today’s confession with cheap ramen noodles that had to be inhaled within minutes due to the store owner wanting to close up really soon.

Since they all still had class tomorrow, the group’s mini-adventure ended rather sooner than expected with the others walking home while San seeked shelter underneath an awning as he waited for Mingi to pick him up. As San pulled his jacket closer to his shivering body, he realized that it may have been smarter to linger within the convenience store instead. It was too late now, however, leaving San to miserably accept his fate as the late winter breeze nipped at his exposed cheeks. The thoughts of curling up underneath a blanket once he got back to his dorm was eventually interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching him.

San quickly glanced out of the corner of his eye to see who had joined him under the awning only to be greeted by the sight of your flushed face and [hair color] hair tucked messily underneath a black beanie. He had seen you a few times before on campus, most of them having been in the library in hopes of finding a study space on last minute’s notice. As he recalled, you were in most of Yeosang’s lecture classes since you dropped off notes for him on a few rare occasions. Not a talkative one, as Yeosang described from the very scarce encounters and group projects he was assigned with. Yet, those vague descriptions didn’t look like they exactly fit you. The writer in San’s mind was already attempting to dissect you based on your rather oblivious self right now. Tired [eye color] eyes remained glued to the glowing screen as one of your small hands raised to the scarf wrapped loosely around your neck to adjust it. The pink hue from the late night’s winter breeze barely peeked out, leaving him to assume that you may have been waiting for a bus now to rush by much longer than he was.

Your eyes peeled away from the screen before catching sight of San. “Is there something wrong?”

San nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. Momentary panic rushed through his veins as his previous thought train came to a sudden crash. _Say something_ , he almost screeched at himself. _Anything to relieve this awkwardness._

“I’ve seen you around campus a couple of times,” San stated rather bluntly. 

“And so have I, Choi San.”

 _Shit_ , he mentally cursed. San’s mouth parted slightly, yet no words rolled out. Only silence from the dark haired male as he tried to regain his thoughts once more.

“That was weird,” you murmured under your breath with San not knowing if he was meant to hear it or not. “I’m [Surname] [Name], by the way. We have a morning lecture together on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. Plus, everyone always goes on about how amazing of a writer you are,” you explained as you finally turned to face San.

A mischievous glint flickered in your gaze, igniting something deep within San’s chest before a chuckle left him.

“Then why don’t I see you as often then?” San inquired.

“Most likely because I prefer sitting in the back,” you answered honestly. 

San hummed in response. “I see, then. Maybe I should start looking for you more.”

You blinked a few times, tilting your head slightly at San as he flashed you a gentle smile. The dimples adorning his cheeks were not helping with the sudden flusterness washing over you either. 

“Wait, why?” you questioned.

San turned to fully face you now, hands tucked into his pockets in an attempt to conserve what little feeling he had left in his icy fingers. For some reason, it didn’t feel like he needed to in your eyes. Cold, dangerous, lethal in many ways; while regarded for his work despite only being just a year into college, he was untouchable. Perhaps it stems from the fear of being featured in an upcoming writer’s work for life experiences and extreme rollercoasters of emotions are what fuel them to make some of the most heartbreaking stories. But, you couldn’t see that. The San that stood in front of you radiated warmth, comfort, and safety despite standing out on the corner of the street and bracing the late night’s cold wind. A rosy hue dusted his own paled cheeks as the heart-stopping smile was still plastered to his lips. It was as if he was wordlessly encouraging you to let your guard down. _It’s alright_ , his smile read,

“Because I want to be friends with you now,” San responded.

Your eyes widen at San’s declaration before the ticklish sensation of laughter bubbles out of your chest. 

“Sure, San, it’s nice to be friends now.”

Soon enough, the soft, yellow glare of headlights steadily rolled by before coming to a gentle stop in front of San and you, signaling for the two of you to part ways for now. As you stepped on, your head quickly whipped back to San.

“Don’t forget about the essay and extra credit assignment,” you reminded the male just before the doors closed.

San opened his mouth only to close it as he watched the bus pull away. With that, he let out a loud groan before he slipped one of his hands out of his pockets to pinch the bridge of his nose.

_That’s right. That stupid letter assignment I have still yet to contemplate about._


	3. Letter #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_—“Eventually, the need to change will consume you.”_ **

**_Dear [redacted],_ **

**_You, who claims to know all, can only see the world in black and white, right?_ **

**_A world where everything, from the people who pass by you on their way to their class to the aroma of coffee that clings to you as you exit the little cafe, is insignificant unless you choose to observe._ **

**_Imagine just for a second, how vibrant the world could be if you just stop and live for once. Imagine how the student by you is also stressing over their assignment as their fingers nearly break their own keyboard. Imagine how bitter your coffee would truly be if you were to forgo the extra creamer and sugar that swirls around the caffeinated drink. Imagine how the cool air tempts you to buy another one for the sake of your numb fingers._ **

**_Imagine what it would be like to live._ **

**_So tell me, one who claims to know all, yet knows nothing in reality, why do you insist on viewing the world through such a boring perspective like your’s? Aren’t you ready for a change?_ **

**_Or is too much to ask of someone who refuses to believe unless they observe it with their own eyes?_ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_An impatient person_ **


	4. 02: The Genius Writer's Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  _“A new opinion can certainly turn the world upside down.”_   
>  **

Everything felt like a mistake with each passing second.

You had only taken this writing class to get one of your credit requirements out of the way, yet the thought of having to produce something not out of logic and real-world evidence has also caused a tremendous amount of stress to fall on your shoulders. You glanced back at your laptop that sat on the makeshift kitchen table, keyboard most likely still burning from the rapidfire typing you produced from earlier in the ungodly hours of the morning.

With the sound of keys dropping on the counter, you peered up to see Yoona, your roommate, walk in with multiple envelopes in one hand and what seemed like another cup of oddly sweet coffee in the other. Knowing Yoona for quite some time now, you were surprised that her signature drink didn’t change as much as her hair color (which was currently blonde due to not knowing which color she should tackle next). You couldn’t tease her about it, though, knowing that your extremely bitter choice of straight black coffee with the tiniest bit of sugar never settled well with most.

“[Name], I picked up your mail for you,” Yoona’s voice echoed as she entered the room. You murmured a quick thanks as you gently placed your now empty mug on the tiny side table before picking up said mail. Other than the usual letter from your parents, a small envelope with only your name written clearly on the front accompanied it as well. The corners of your mouth turned down slightly as you turned the envelope every which way in hopes to find some kind of hint as to who it was from. Weird, you thought. “No return address...”

“Oh? A secret admirer? Seems a little old-fashioned, but look at you,” Yoona teased which only caused you to roll your eyes in response. “Didn’t you say you were going to have a date with some guy from the music department?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to finish up some of your classwork at the campus cafe?” Yoona called out. The blonde nearly dropped her morning beverage at the sight of you jumping to your feet suddenly.

“Thanks for reminding me, Yoona! I should get going before I lose the chance to snag a seat!” You exclaimed as you began gathering all your essentials.

Your roommate remained by the small counter as she watched you scurry about the room, quickly tossing your things in a bag without a second thought before seeing you bolt out the door without another word spoken.

“Oh, [Name]...”

* * *

“You met [Name] last night?”

San hummed in response with a slight nod of his head. “Is there a problem?” he inquired as he stopped typing.

Yeosang shook his head before he rested a hand on the back of his neck. Of course he had no issue with it, seeing that he wasn’t exactly close with you after all. But, it didn’t ease the sudden bemusement that washed over his thoughts. He never exactly received a friendly impression of you, but perhaps he was too quick to judge a book by its cover. Then again, Yeosang had to remind himself that he was speaking with San who always viewed the world through a rather unique perspective.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. [Name]’s always so curt with a lot of people, but here you are saying they’re much nicer than what everyone says.”

“You’re the same, hyung. When Wooyoung told me you’ve been his friend for several years, I couldn’t wrap my head around how someone as quiet as you are could be dragged into so many of Wooyoung’s schemes,” San responded.

Yeosang hummed softly. “Five years and still going,” the quiet man mumbled as he peered out the window.

Yeosang let San’s remark slide this time, acknowledging his point instead of shooting back one of his infamous retorts. He’s a writer after all, or soon-to-be one, at least. It was in his nature to dissect and characterize people in an oddly poetic manner that defined them in more ways than one. Anyone who caught San’s interest was automatically caught in his neverending story of life. To San, everyone was a character in life that was waiting to be unraveled by the genius writer himself.

“So, that’s it?”

San tore his gaze away from his computer screen as he arched an eyebrow at Yeosang. The elder sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Before he could utter another word, three booming voices came through, interrupting the serene morning. By the small corridor entered a teary-eyed Wooyoung who was accompanied by a beaming Song Mingi and Jeong Yunho.

Song Mingi was a force to be reckoned with at times. As co-captain of the university’s dance team and San’s dual-natured roommate, Mingi was a blazing fire, burning the image of a passionate and intimidating man into most strangers' minds, but also warming the hearts of his friends with his oddly cute side of his personality. Infuriating at some points since he likes to disagree with the group for fun? Quite so. Yet, it still caught San off guard at times to see the man he hears everyone is hesitant to approach fond over the simplest cat video he just so happened to scroll past on his social media feed.

Jeong Yunho was very much different from the scarlet redhead despite being just as tall as him. He carried a calming aura around him, always attracting anyone and everyone and befriending with such ease due to his already gentle nature. An open-minded individual who wears his heart on his sleeve and charms everyone with his dazzling smile. A potentially hopeless romantic doomed to suffer if he isn’t careful with his glass heart in the eyes of the Genius Writer.

“San! You’re planning on hanging out with the rest of us this saturday, right?” Mingi’s voice boomed, earning a short chuckle out of the shorter male.

“Saturday’s the only day Hongjoong is ever not working,” San responded as he closed his laptop. The raven haired male casually slid the device back into his bag before he stood up and began making his way towards the door.

“Seems like San’s in a rush to leave already. Did he tell you what he was doing today, Yeosang?” Wooyoung inquired.

Yeosang shrugged his shoulders as he slumped back into the chair. “There’s a new café around the corner, so that’s one option. Or maybe he’s going to meet up with [Name].”

The trio all raised their eyebrows as they gawked at Yeosang for a moment, causing the light brunette to shift slightly in his seat as he turned his gaze away from the three. _The feelings are mutual_ , he guessed. A miracle, perhaps, to all four of them as they contemplated over how the Genius Writer was able to befriend [Name], a fellow college student who always appeared to be much more devoted to education than socializing.

“Is there something wrong, Mingi?” Wooyoung questioned the redhead as he frowned slightly in the direction that San had walked off to.

“[Name] sounds very familiar for some reason…”

* * *

The café, as Yeosang had pointed out earlier, was not a far walk from San’s dorm. It was fairly new to the area, having only opened just a month ago, yet it was already gaining some popularity amongst the college student population. Another source of short-lived energy from drinks that most likely only contained a touch of coffee that barely broke through the uniquely flavored beverage that it was mixed in, if you will. Nevertheless, it was a café that many claimed as a spot for comfort and relaxation. The interior was brightly light by the few artificial lights that hung above café-goers as well as by the natural light that flooded through the windows that surrounded them completely, giving the area a fresh feeling of endlessness. There was comfort in the thought that the day’s weather was what encompassed the mood of the tiny café.

San slipped into the café to escape from the bustling crowd of students moving towards their first class of the day. Despite it being a little early in some ways, the café was moving just as much as San’s fellow peers outside. _Popular in convenience_ , he supposed as he approached the counter.

The workers behind the counter did not take long and passed San’s order of a small latte. As San turned on his heel, he spotted you at one of the tables, eyebrows furrowed and a near permanent frown upon your lips, rapidly typing away with no hint of interest in your surroundings. He shook his head gently before deciding that it may be a good choice to distract you from your work for a few minutes.

“Funny seeing you here, friend” San spoke up as he slid into the seat across from you, earning a small smile in response. Judging your slightly tinted cheeks, San assumed you must have gotten here just a little earlier than him.

“I needed to replenish my caffeine levels,” you answered sharply. “As I have found out, I still can’t type up a decent essay to save my life.” San chuckled before tapping the top of your laptop. You peered up at San with a faint frown gracing your lips, as if pleading the genius writer to bless you with the ability to forge an essay that would satisfy not only yourself, but your professor as well. “You probably don’t take the time to look at your surroundings,” San noted.

You tilted your head to the side slightly before motioning San to explain his statement. Heat brushed the dark haired male’s cheeks as he rested a hand on the back of his now burning neck. A sudden tightness in San’s throat accompanied the odd sensation he was experiencing which caused him to clear his throat before he averted his gaze away from you.

“Sometimes, when you are struggling to write, it’s because you’re set on staying within a tiny box. If you stay in that box, you miss a few details about the world around you,” San explained. He stole a quick glance at your features before he waved a hand in front of himself. “Tell me, when you look around the cafe, what do you see?”

Slowly, you let your eyes travel towards the peaceful scene of the cafe before you. It had calmed down since you first stepped in to save yourself from the bitter cold. More tables were empty, you noted, as the handful of workers slowed down and began taking their time in perfecting the orders that were coming in now. You then observed the other students as they furiously scribbled or typed away to finish an assignment that they have also procrastinated on for too long. Others chattered away with each other, basking in the glory of having their lives together. _Funny_ , you thought. Stress plagued most students minds here, leaving nothing but an ominous feeling at the back of the mind. An impending doom from the possibility of not finishing an assignment you had all the time in the world to work on if you only had the motivation to start early. Despite that, it was evident to both San and you that you had missed a major point that San was trying to make.

“Students and baristas are working. More tables are empty- San, what are you trying to get out of this?” You grumbled out of frustration.

San gently shook his head in slight disappointment after he stole another quick glance from you. “Like all other computer science majors, you view everything so objectively at times.”

You weren’t exactly amused with this answer until you caught a certain gleam in San’s eyes. The slight curl of the lips and the knowing gaze revealed an entire story to San. To San, the cafe’s atmosphere was placid, the natural light filtering in as if helping to chase away the anxious dark clouds that followed students too closely at times. The aroma of coffee, faintly bitter or sickenly sweet, traveled and filled every space in between, leaving only a pleasant sensation for all. Tired students remained scattered, eyes glued to the screens of laptops that most likely were burning just as much as an impatient mouth who needed to refuel on caffeine. Friends gossiped and giggled long after their mostly sugar and barely coffee drinks have gone cold. Busy, but not bustling. Scattered, but not nearly vacant. A perfect place to unleash creativity, as San would have commented.

“You need to make up a story sometimes just to achieve what you want in writing,” San stated.

“That’s easy for you to say, Genius Writer,” you countered with a huff.

San quirked an eyebrow at your response before he let out a breathy chuckle. “Maybe so, but you somehow recognized me last night.”

“And what’s that supposed to prove?” you inquired. A soft hum left San as he placed his cup of coffee near his lips, blowing gently on it before savoring a small sip. He placed the cup down and gave a simple shrug of the shoulders. It took you a moment as you caught on to the fact that the slight simper San wore never disappeared in the first place.

“I’m not interested, if that’s what you’re implying,” you stated flatly.

San blinked a few times, his confidence faltering slightly as if he was struggling to process the words that effortlessly slipped out of your mouth. It didn’t help his case either as he caught your gaze boring into your laptop screen again, completely ignoring San’s moment of embarrassment.

“I was gonna say you pick up on tiny details when something interests you, but thanks for friend-zoning me?”

No response was uttered from your already slouching form, too focused on this frustrating assignment that has yet to meet your expectations of satisfaction. It didn’t sit well with you, of course. With how San sees and conveys everything as if it was a new story unfolding in front of his eyes; it was unnerving, for it seemed as if everyone was transparent as glass. But it also intrigued you. For you, who is so used to seeing the world as an endless code that continuously needs tweaks to function properly, seeing such vivid details and hearing new perspectives never crossed your mind. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why you seeked out San. Maybe, just maybe, your world would gradually expand its horizon and welcome in new experiences that you’d never expected to live in.

The time flashed in the right corner of the screen, signaling you to close your laptop with a soft sigh of defeat. “Well, I have to get to my class now. Have a fun time doing whatever future writers do,” you suddenly announced as you stood up. You quickly gathered your belongings, shoving most into your bag without a second thought before grabbing your laptop and scurrying away with only a nod of the head. Unbeknownst to you, your unopened letter had fallen out of the side pocket of your bag along with your earbuds. Having noticed this, San immediately picked up the forgotten items, but was just a second too late as he already saw you at the door.

“[N-Name]!!”

With the chime of the bell, San slumped back into his chair as he wrapped your earbuds into a neat bundle before placing them in one of the pockets of his jacket. He then turned his attention towards the envelope before humming in amusement as the corners of lips curved upwards at the sight of the familiar penmanship that decorated the front of the envelope. Quietly shaking his head, he retrieved his own letter out of his bag before setting the two down on the table in front of him.

**_It seemed that you got a letter as well, [Name]._ **


	5. 03: Transparency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_“Patience and pride have never worked together nor will they ever give you the answer you are searching for.”_ **

A few days has passed since the rather coincidental meet up between you and San. With the new revelation that you had also received a mysterious letter, the aspiring writer has made it his mission to meet you again to inquire about this predicament. However, for as thoughtful as San can be, his plan only consisted of patiently waiting until you hunted him down yourself if the letter was deemed to be so significant to your being. A hopeless yearning to satisfy childish meddlesomeness, one would have told him. A death wish if that letter seemed important, another would have warned. Yet, San stayed determined to pull himself out of the ambiguity that he was left with in this situation even if your lack of reaction from the first morning class you two shared appeared a little discouraging.

“Maybe it wasn’t that important then,” Yeosang concluded as San and him strolled the streets in search of a quick bite between classes.

* * *

San hummed. “Maybe you’re right, but I say otherwise,” he retorted, causing the brunette to raise an eyebrow.

For as long as Yeosang knew San, any doubt that crossed San’s mind only meant that a reckless plan was brewing inside the depths of his ever-so-busy mind. Any effort to steer him towards a path with less collisions in the near future would be useless at this point. He was silently stubborn, as Yeosang had learned over the years. Too stubborn to move away from the daydreams that sometimes distracted him from reality. Too stubborn to step away from the harsh truth he presents himself with in a quiet manner. Disaster only waited for San if he continued on with this skewed perception.

“By the way, Mingi said something about [Name] the other day,” Yeosang stated. 

“Mingi knows [Name] as well?” San began, “I didn’t know they were that popular.”

“It’s not really that they’re popular, but Mingi said [Name] and him actually used to attend the same school, which is odd if you ask me,” Yeosang explained.

It was indeed a little peculiar for San remembered that Mingi hailed from a well known dance academy. Though every school still had its general subjects, he knew that many who chose to attend any performing arts school were specifically set on committing to an unknown future filled with obstacles that would challenge faith, devotion, and work ethic for the field always remained unpredictable in a plethora of ways. Performing arts school was a place where many were able to unleash their creativity freely with no worries about the future however, and yet here was [Name], a computer science major who expressed no fantasy or daydream and who continued on with a plain lifestyle, contempt in the box they built around themselves. In the mind of San, [Name] was someone who struggled to grasp the concept that art is another world of its own that is meant to be explored with passion and fervor. A blank canvas ready to be splattered with unpredictability. [Name] couldn’t have come from any performing arts school.

“If they came from the same school, then how come one ended up as one of the top dance majors and the other didn’t pursue anything similar?” San inquired.

Yeosang shrugged his shoulders. “I’d ask the same thing. I left it at that, though, because I wasn’t entirely invested in the idea that Mingi and [Name] had attended the same school before.”

San let a soft sigh pass his lips. Every unanswered question will eventually seek out its response. It just takes a little patience, which San was all too familiar with not possessing as much as his friend beside him.

“Another story to be unraveled, then—“

**“Choi San!”**

San immediately scrunched his nose in displeasure at the sudden echo of his full name.

“Seems that I need to take my leave now,” Yeosang teased. San rolled his eyes at the brunette before he stopped and turned to face your approaching form.

Your face remained impassive as you immediately extended your hand out to the ravenette. “I know you have my letter, so can I have it back?” You asked. A tiny simper pulled at the corners of San’s lips.

“You mean this?”

San held the envelope addressed with your name in front of you. “Quite an interesting thing to receive. Admirer?”

“No,” you answered bluntly, causing San to chuckle slightly. Your eyes quickly scanned over the envelope before you began reaching out to retrieve it only to have San hold it out of your reach. “What are you trying to do this time, San?”

It was a risky thought, for sure, but San craved to satisfy the ever increasing curiosity that plagued his mind. So, San held your letter in front of you with one hand before he began to rummage around his backpack with his other hand. He then pulled out a similar envelope with his own name scribbled in the middle of it.

“Seems like I got the same thing. How about we open it together?” San suggested.

You pressed your lips together, contemplating the offer as your fingers slowly wrap around your own envelope. Neither of you knew what the contents were inside, leaving endless possibilities of what it could be. Yet, it surely could be just that; admirers that felt the need to go the old fashion route to reveal a loveless confession. There was nothing wrong with writing a letter for it was a completely normal gesture of those who idolized the idea of cheesy romance built upon the everlasting influence of rom-cons, drama shows, and coming-of-age films. A waste of paper, you would have scoffed. But, perhaps it could turn into an inside joke, or another step into a steady friendship, granted you and San had a similar response to romantic gestures like love letters.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Okay,” you responded, “we’ll open it and if we want to, we can talk about it.”

San beamed as he immediately ran a finger under the flap, ripping it open to reveal a similar off-white piece of paper folded inside. You carefully tore your’s open, pulling the flap gently before slipping the letter out of the confinement with a great amount of care.

“If it is just… admirers, what are you going to do?” you inquired. Out of your watchful gaze, you saw San’s broad shoulders shrug in response.

“Who knows,” he spoke as he quickly unfolded his letter. “Will you let me read your’s if it’s just that?”

“Who knows,” you mimed as you unfolded your letter as well.

An uncomfortable silence ensues within the first few lines of each letter, leaving you and San struggling to formulate any sentences as your gazes continuously scan over the letters. Visible gulps, shaky hands, and plastered frowns were the only things that your bodies could do to communicate that these letters were certainly not love letters. With just a few words, it seemed that the invisible pride you both held on for so long crumbled into dust.

“Did… did you write this?” You questioned in a low tone. San vigorously shook his head as he bit down on his lower lip. “Of course not. Did you?”

A shallow laugh escapes you as you crumple the letter into a ball suddenly. “That’s a lame question considering you’re the one who called me out for my lack of ability to even type an essay.”

_Former romantic sounds just like **you**_ , _though_ , San wanted to voice, pressing his lips into a thin line. For the ebony-haired student, it wasn’t hard to guess what kind of view you had on things that you would possibly deem as trivial and not worth the time to ponder over. As complicated as you presented yourself as, San knew for a fact that the mere idea of fidelity stirred a deeply rooted discomfort within you. Yet, you were so narrow minded when it came to a simple essay the other day. Doubt suddenly crossed his mind as his grip tightened. _It makes perfect sense_ , he thought. The restrained view, the subtle dislike towards anything that could be understood as pushing the boundaries as friends; it had to be you.

“Will you still let me read that letter?” He carefully asked.

You peered down at the crumpled ball of paper in your hand before handing it over to San. “Do what you want with it. I have to leave now.”

“[Name]!”

You immediately turned back on your heel the moment San’s hand grips your wrist.

“Do you know who Song Mingi is?”

_Well, shit_. Your eyes shift elsewhere for a quick second before meeting San’s stern gaze once more. “He’s one of the dance team captains along with Jeong Yunho and Jung Wooyoung—“

“That’s not the answer I wanted,” San interrupted, gaze never faltering for even a second. “Let me try again. Do you know who Song Mingi is?”

A lump started to form within your constricting throat. “We attended the same high school, more or less. Why?” you asked as your free hand rested on the back of your burning neck.

“Do you want to tag along with me this weekend and meet up with him?”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not you wanted to rip your wrist out of San’s iron grip. Your conscious was dancing on thin ice by now, carefully testing which idea would keep you from falling into the freezing water. It’s been a little over a year since you’ve last seen Mingi. It was unpredictable knowing how the dancer would react to seeing you on the same campus as him for you took so much caution to avoid the fiery haired man as much as possible. Fate, as it seems, had a way with making your future unclear.

“I’ll… I’ll give you my number then,” you finally answered.

San’s hand slipped away from your wrist just as the two of you breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sure he’s been wanting to catch up with you for the longest time,” he assured you as he held his phone out to you. You could only force a polite smile though as your fingers reluctantly wrapped around San’s phone. Your patience was already thinned out as it is and your pride was shot, yet the universe remained unsatisfied with your pitiful state of mind. Hopelessly, you found yourself tumbling down a path full of misfortune and misery with San being the cataclysm of it all.

“It’s easy to tell you’re upset,” San noted as he took his phone back from you. You arch your eyebrows in response before motioning for the genius writer to continue.

“Stop worrying about it if it’s the letter. I’ll burn it if it makes you happy,” San chuckled softly.

“I… Look, I’ll just get going to my next class. Text me the details later and then I’ll decide whether or not I want to go,” you exhaled.

San remained wordless as he watched you scurry off with a frown etched into your features. He didn’t dare to say anything afterwards, knowing that it was probably best to leave the bitterly frustrating conversation unfinished. _It was for the best_ , he noted. For both you and himself as he looked down to the creased paper known as your letter. Boundaries were tested and San had to face the fact that he may have pushed them too much for comfort. Nevertheless, he could say that he had, at least, tried. However, his curiosity remained and thrived, buzzing like a swarm of bees within his inner thoughts and consciousness.

The mysterious ink that stained your crumpled letter and caused your internal conflict was eventually shoved into the front pocket of his bag without another thought being dedicated towards it. His own letter followed suit with an exhausted breath escaping his lips. _Perplexing_ , he would have remarked. _Perplexing for a person who’s feelings are as transparent as glass._

“Let it be a mystery, then, [Name]. For both you and me to solve.”

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any emotional tension caused at any time. Also, bear with me, I'm still getting used to AO3's formatting (Updates along with a small playlist can be found first on my tumblr page: sidereal-fantasies)


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